


fixated on one star

by NorthOfSomewhere



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Feelings, Flash Fic, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26405293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthOfSomewhere/pseuds/NorthOfSomewhere
Summary: Light's hands twitch as he sleeps, and in dreams he reaches for lost things.
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Kudos: 40





	fixated on one star

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's short, but I forgot where I was going with this.

Light's hands twitch as he sleeps, and in dreams he reaches for lost things. Dreams flicker and change swiftly, as though someone is changing channels on a tv. There are thousands of screens. They all show the same thing. He briefly sees himself as a child, not quite happy even then. If he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t even know how to be happy. He wonders if happiness is just a warm lie everyone tells themselves. The only time he feels anything close to freedom is when he's sleeping, sometimes wants to sleep forever.

The channel changes again. L dying, playing out in slow motion, the look on his face burned so deep into his memory it'll be the last thing he'll ever see. He sees it playing out on his eyelids when he blinks. A curse. _I miss you._ His arms reach out and he knows he is dreaming because the handcuffs on his wrist make no noise as he moves. The other side of the bed lies empty, and cold. _Does it make sense to feel temperatures in a dream?_

* * *

Light remembers when there were two beds in their room. They were both full sized with a nightstand stuck in the middle. The chain would hang in the air between them. The dream distorts that space to infinity.

He remembers when L asks Watari for a new bed, this time a king. Visions of L flit through his head and across the screens. Computer monitors, he realizes. On the screens, L is adorned in heavy velvet robes, a crown of gold perched jauntily atop his soft black hair. He remembers the feeling of it between his fingers. He wants to pull L from the screen, from the past, and make him material. Let this dreamspace be theirs, the real world never appealed anyway.

 _It wouldn't work._ He thinks. Even dreaming he knows L only ever thought of him as a suspect, not... whatever it is that Light feels for him. Everything was a lie.

He watches on the screen as the scene plays out.

L looks at Light for a response. When there isn't one, he shrugs and offers his own answer to the unasked question.

"It’s more comfortable this way."

Light just asks which side L wants.

He answers with a crooked smile, not really looking at Light. “The right side.”

* * *

He grabs a muffin as they are walking by the kitchen to the computers. When he places it in front of L, he expects a joke of some sort, but all L does is turn to look at him, and he's smiling. He murmurs "Thank you." and his focus turns to the muffin, he peels the top off as Light watches. He forgets to say your welcome, because all he can see is that smile and all he can think is. _'I want to make you smile, every day.'_  
  


* * *

L removes his own side of the handcuffs when Light is ‘asleep’. Light knows that L isn’t fooled by his pretending. He knows himself, knows he wouldn’t do anything to hurt L, but still he disapproves. _'_ _Are you this reckless with other suspects?’_

L paces the room. His form, a shadow cutting through the silvery moonlight. ‘Nottivago.’ Light thinks. It's a word he saw in passing once. He's not sure he's using it right. Before... before L there would have been total confidence. How is it that he makes him so uncertain? Of his words, his actions, his own view of himself completely shattered. Something within broken. He doesn't know how to begin putting it back together. And there's a little piece of him that doesn't want to.

* * *

L reads to him, passages and poems that he’s memorized. His voice is low, even and measured. It’s soothing in a way that Light can’t stand. It feels like losing control. He admits to himself, half asleep and L’s voice in his ears that he wants something. Something he shouldn’t. _‘I love you.’_ He almost says it once.

* * *

"Light," L whispers. "Are you awake?"

"No." He whispers back, his voice muffled by their blanket. Black and grey plaid. He hears rustling and then L's hand reaches for his, cold, but that doesn't matter.

"Me either." He mumbles, but he sounds half way to it. L curls to face him, the chain clinking as he does. Light turns on his side too. He shifts so their fingers intertwine. Neither of them says anything for a while. Light watches L blink at him owlishly.

"You'd look cute with glasses." He says, because he's tired, because here under the blankets it feels cut off from the rest of the world.  
  


* * *

He dreams of L cuffed to someone else, curled in sleep with his mirror image. Pale, bony, fingers intertwined, twin sets of inky black locks. When he awakes, his mouth is dry. His stomach aches. 


End file.
